The Legend of the Meta-Defying Smith Who Saved the Kingdom

Suero returned to the waiting room a very wealthy man.

True, most of his wealth was tied up in loans, both those he owed to others and those others owed to him, and so he was often strapped for cash in the moment.

But since the return of the Bag of Holding to the Royal Family, he had made a point of keeping a fair bit of coin on hand, to better seize opportunities as they arose. And he kept funds available in the Royal Bank, which had had its teller window conveniently located across from the betting window within the stadium.

The Steward had withdrawn the maximum amount and had bet eleven thousand dollars on his lord's victory at eight to one odds against.

Fortunately, in those days, the gambling houses were wise in how they conducted their business, and strictly maintained their professionalism and didn't dip their toes into gambling themselves. They collected their small fraction from all the cast bets, and were satisfied.

James was unaware of this. But he could sense the Knight's good mood when he pulled off his helmet, grinning broadly, and declared that for his next set of armor, James could go all out. Money was no object.

"Even mythril?"

"Of course not mythril, Smith!"

But he laughed, basking in his victory.

James felt relief.

Then he felt optimism.

The armor and weapons he had crafted had been assessed by the Merchant's Guild, and he was down to some nineteen thousand dollars of debt left.

If he really went all out, and did even better on the next set…

Freedom was in sight.

He smiled, too. He would have to celebrate with Isabella. Perhaps they could craft a knife together; he had some ideas about Spatial enchantments…

A squire brought them food and drink, and the Steward tried to insist the Knight take a potion, and the rest of the Tournament was more a set of exhibition matches rather than actual Duels.

The first fight had completely destroyed the normal progression of the matches, not to mention the arena floor. Though that was easier to fix: Earth Mages simply put it back in order.

After a short break for that purpose, and to rearrange the brackets, the Tournament resumed.

But for all that the Knights fought with their pride and internal hierarchy on the line, it was a letdown compared to the prior match.

There were no bloodfeuds, no channeled lightning, no Great War Hammers shaking the very city itself.

The Knights fought until a winner was clear, and then the loser yielded with grace, and the fights proceeded civilly.

The Second Prince was the first to depart.

Then the King and Queen.

Finally the Crown Prince shoved the scepter into the Princess' hands and stormed off, leaving her standing there somewhat awkwardly throughout the rest of the day as the Tournament continued.

The Aspirant Knight was given a bye for the first round, and pointedly restrained himself to just his longsword for the rest of his matches.

They were complete blowouts.

With his effectively weightless armor, near-immunity to magic, and incredibly powerful [Sap]-enchanted sword, the fruits of his personal training were able to show themselves and compare favorably to those Knights with dual combat Classes and more optimal builds for fighting.

For the first time in the history of the Tournament, equipment overturned the hierarchy of Classes and Skills.

After the second rounds finished, the Knight Commander appeared on the balcony, to the visible relief of the First Princess, and took over most of the duties of overseeing the Tournament.

The other Knights of the Order accepted the inevitable, and took their losses with grace. Suero, for his part, granted them opportunities to shine and test their full might against his armor. And at the end, when he defeated the Vice Commander of the entire Order without breaking a sweat, the crowd roared nearly as loud as it had when he bested Pablo.

Betting on his matches had, of course, been suspended entirely.

The Vice Commander himself, taking the loss with good grace, held up Suero's arm and beckoned for more applause.

This was it.

This was what Suero had been working towards for ten long years.

Ever since his first humiliating loss in the Tournament, and every loss thereafter, this was what had kept him going. Kept him grinding. Kept him pushing himself every single day. This was what he had taken all those risks for, what he had taken all those loans for, what he had owed all those favors for.

It was finally here.

The Princess, carrying the scepter, approached the balcony's edge with the Knight Commander of the Order by her side.

Everyone in the Colosseum heard her soft, rich voice as she spoke.

"Tell us, sir Knight, what boon would you have of the Royal Family?"

Suero snapped off a crisp salute, and then removed his helmet and genuflected, bowing his head.

Everyone heard him speak, his deep baritone voice resounding.

"My Lady, my deepest wish is to serve the Royal Family even more, as a Knight of the Royal Guard."

The crowd murmured.

Royal Guard Knights were, at a minimum, Viscounts in noble rank.

He was effectively asking for three promotions in one fell swoop.

The First Princess merely smiled and narrowed her eyes.

The Knight Commander took a half step forward and shouted.

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"With this, the Tournament of Duels is over! All hail the victor, Knight Suero Paulo Cortez de Figueroa de la Iberteria!"

"Hail the victor!"

"Hail the victor!"

"Hail the Knight Suero!"

The Steward frowned next to James.

"Prepare yourself," he said.

James looked up at the tall man, and tilted his head.

"What for?"

"Anything. The Princess neither accepted nor declined our lord's request. Something is afoot."

And sure enough, after the Knights had assembled and marched around the Arena's edge in formation, and Suero returned to the waiting room to let the crowds depart the Colosseum, a squire arrived bearing a letter from the Knight Commander.

It was a summons to the Royal Castle, that evening, and Suero was ordered to bring his Smith with him.

The Steward made as though to dash off to prepare, but the Knight halted him.

"Wait, before you go, let us finalize a commission with my Smith."

For fifteen precious minutes, Suero and James spoke of a set of armor that would push James' abilities as a Smith and as an Enchanter to the very limit. This included a set of chain mail enchanted with Barrier, as James' currently was.

Sebastian finalized the order, provided a copy to James, and then took off like a bolt from a crossbow.

Suero leaned back and sighed, enjoying a small glass of wine.

"What a day…" he muttered. James, young man that he was, couldn't help but ask.

"Sir, did you level up from that?"

Suero grinned. "Oh, yes I certainly did. Six levels, if you can believe it. Three in each Class."

James' eyes sparkled. The channeled magic and rapid movements and the climactic execution of their shared enemy had been most exciting, though much of the fight had been beyond him at a technical level.

Suero recognized this, and spent some time explaining the fight with Pablo to James, blow-by-blow, and giving his comments on the gear and enchantments at each step.

Eventually, the crowds had dispersed enough for the Knight and the Smith to make their way to the Royal Castle, meeting up with the Steward at the Castle gates. He was carrying a leather document bag.

Two Royal Guard knights escorted them past the interior wall, through the gate, and into the Castle proper. Once inside, they were led to a table with another Knight and several boxes. There, they handed over their weapons and tools, though they were permitted to keep their armor on. That done, they entered the Castle itself through a side entrance, and were taken to a conference room and made to wait. A maid prepared tea, and just as she finished steeping it, the fragrant scent of the leaves filling the air with exquisite refinement, the Princess arrived with several attendants and the Knight Commander in tow.

They all stood, and the knights saluted formally before genuflecting. James copied the Steward, and they fell to both knees, crossed their arms over their chests, and bowed their heads silently.

"Rise," the Princess said, and she took a seat at the head of the table. "You all may sit."

Everyone seemed to know instinctively where to sit, and the Steward gently pushed the Smith to his seat. The Knight Commander sat at the Princess' right, and one of her attendants sat at her left. Two other attendants took up position behind the Princess, and continuing on the Princess' left, the Aspirant Knight, the Steward, and lastly the Smith took their seats.

The Princess nodded to the Knight Commander, and he spoke.

"Knight Suero," he said gravely, "you ask for much of the Royal Family."

Suero nodded. "I believe my performance today showed what I would bring with me to the Royal Guard."

The Commander made a face, and the seated attendant spoke on behalf of the Princess.

"Knight Suero, a promotion of two ranks is reasonable, as would be entry into the Royal Guard. But a promotion of three ranks?" She paused. James took a closer look at her. She was a woman of average height, with a narrow face, wearing thin spectacles and her black hair was pulled back into a severe bun. Her dress appeared plain at first glance, but closer inspection revealed that it was elegantly crafted and embroidered, certainly of high quality.

"Three ranks is too much."

Suero's face was a perfect mask of politeness and respect.

"Respectfully, I would point out that my performance today was limited by the nature of the Tournament; had I been fully equipped, my performance would be even greater. This I would bring with me to the Royal Guard, to serve the Royal Family."

The Princess' painted red lips parted, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. She had porcelain skin and vivid red hair, though up close her bright silver eyes were angled, giving her an intense expression even when relaxed. "Yes, your equipment… It is most impressive." She turned her gaze to James, and he felt an oppressive weight fall on him, like he was being eyed by a totally superior predator. "And you are the blonde Smith in Knight Suero's service, yes? We permit you to speak."

He swallowed thickly. "Yes, your grace."

"And you forged the Knight's armor and weapons?"

"Yes, your grace."

"Tell us your name."

"I am James, your grace, son of Farmer Stephen and Homemaker Helen."

"And you are the young man courting the Enchantress, Isabella de Izguardia de la Iberteria, no?"

James grew wary, though he did his best to hide this. "Yes, your grace."

The Princess turned her hawkish gaze from James to Suero, who handled the pressure with significantly more grace. "They make quite a team, do they not?" She flicked her wrist and suddenly there was a knife in her hand, a Black Steel knife that James recognized.

One he had forged, and Isabella had enchanted with [Slow], [Weaken], and [Piercing].

It was far, far beyond the norm for enchanted knives, and not one he had thought would be put up for sale through the Joint Workshop.

"You see, Knight Suero… we know the secret behind your equipment."

James paled.

"And we have already become the patron of the Enchantress half of the pair."

His heart pounded in his chest.

"It would be a suitable contribution to the Royal Family, and would merit a promotion of one rank, to provide us with the other half of this most… enchanting pair."

James clenched his jaw, and his fists on his lap. The Steward placed a hand on his arm, partly to calm him and partly to restrain him if necessary.

James focused on breathing steadily and holding it together.

Suero frowned slightly.

"I'm afraid that my Smith and I still have business together, but I would be happy to bring him with me as my retainer, and offer his services to the Royal Family—"

"Contracted business?" she interrupted.

"...Yes, your grace," he said, and the Steward produced the commission order that they had filled out mere hours prior.

"We are aware of the contract binding the Smith to you, Knight Suero. It is not the typical oath of fealty a retainer swears to their lord, now is it?"

Tension filled the air, like a knife's blade pressed ever so gently against one's neck.

Suero was the one to swallow thickly now. "That is correct, your grace."

"A life debt, is it not?"

"Yes, your grace."

"Then there should be no problem with transferring that life debt to ourselves, correct?"

The Steward tensed, and it was all the Aspirant Knight could do to control himself.

He was perfectly still for two seconds.

For two seconds, his mind whirled. Weighing risks and benefits. Judging values and his plans to achieve his goals.

A viscountcy was within his grasp.

He came to a decision, and the atmosphere shifted.

The tension lifted for all except James.

The Aspirant Knight nodded.